


ouroboros

by Ykoriana_FourBlood



Category: The Stone Dance of the Chameleon - Ricardo Pinto
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence - Non-Bald Chosen, Canonical Character Death, Canonical Child Death, F/M, Referenced Canonical Mutilation, Sibling Incest, Soft Childhood Moments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-01-25 19:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21361813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ykoriana_FourBlood/pseuds/Ykoriana_FourBlood
Summary: Ykoriana's love for Kumatuya was the greatest joy and the greatest sorrow of her life. A collection of moments they shared, for the first and the last time.
Relationships: Kumatuya of the Masks/Ykoriana of the Masks
Kudos: 1





	1. look

**Author's Note:**

> Far from the first fic I've written for this fandom, but the very first I've shared publicly.  
Ykoriana (my favourite character, as might be guessed from the username) and Kumatuya's relationship has always been intensely interesting to me. Problematic, yes, but worthy of being explored more, expanding from the limited information we find in the series. Ykoriana's love for Kumatuya (implied to be have been requited to some extent early in the series) endured past his cruel punishment, past the fact that he would always love Sardian more, past all the tragedies that we know marked their lives. Their younger years, the years of their marriage, remain a cypher for the most part, and hopefully this fic can address some of that (fair warning, hefty doses of fanon included).
> 
> A small note: the disregard of the proper God Emperor pronouns in Ykoriana's POV throught this fic is very much intentional. It's a piece of fanon that I've been using in fics for about a year now, with basis in the idea that Ykoriana's experiences would have left her with a certain disillusionment bordering on atheism, resulting in always viewing Kumatuya as himself and not the Gods.

Ykoriana has heard the story many times, has formed a perfect picture of the moment in her mind, even if she cannot, of course, remember it. She had cried almost continuously the first day following her birth, only to go quiet when Kumatuya had been brought in to meet her. _You were just an infant_, her aunt would say over and over again, _but I swear you looked straight into his eyes, and kept following his movements through the room._

***

Ykoriana sees a distorted figure, growing blurry, approaching her, a shade from her worst nightmares come to life. Even as her consciousness is fading, as she is being plunged into the darkness, never to surface again, she tries to focus on him. _I must not look away_, she thinks desperately, holding on to the last vestiges of strength she has left, her gaze locking into his. _I will not look away._


	2. love (one)

“I _love _you,” Ykoriana blurts out, angry tears falling from her eyes, hands gripping the fabric of Kumatuya’s robes furiously. “How could you remain unaware for so long? How could you—”

_How could you betray me like this, lose your heart to another?_

***

“I love you,” Ykoriana whispers gently, her fingertips lingering over his cheek, wet with tears, moving through his silky, fine hair. “I have _always_ loved you—”

_How could you break my heart by asking such a thing of me?_


	3. love (two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More pronoun-related fanon: yes, Kumatuya does use singular pronouns here. Again, this is intentional, based on a headcanon my friend and I had that Kumatuya, depressed and plagued by doubts and insecurities since the beginning of his reign, would in time come to reject his divinity. This pronoun change will be present for any scene in future chapters in which Kumatuya is on his deathbed.

“I love you,” Kumatuya tells her, his voice a caress, his hand tenderly reaching for a lock of her hair, twirling it between his fingers, “how could you ever doubt it?”

It is all Ykoriana ever dreamed of hearing from him. She wants this moment to stretch into eternity, wants him to scream his love for her to the heavens, wants him to softly whisper it into her ear. She wants to hear him say it countless times, every day, for the rest of their lives.

***

“I love you,” Kumatuya murmurs, his voice betraying the pain he is in, too weak to do more than to shakily reach for her hand. “I have given you so many reasons to doubt it, but it is the truth.”

The woman Ykoriana was once would have given everything to hear these words from him. But the years have turned the all-consuming, raging flames of her love into soft glowing embers. She knows the time they have left is short; she is grateful for this last moment.


	4. hate (one)

“I hate you,” Ykoriana declares furiously, with all the explosive anger a very young child can muster, as she picks up the pieces of what had been her favourite doll. “I hate you so much, you ruined it, I want you_ gone_—"

“It was an accident, I’m so sorry,” Kumatuya says miserably, sounding about to cry, but she cares not for any excuses.

***

“I have never hated you this much before,” Ykoriana declares coldly, decades of resentment having shaped her hatred into the weapon she now wields against him. “To think you would dare accuse me thus. You will leave my presence—”

“As if We had no reasons to believe it,” Kumatuya retorts, his voice heavy with grief, but she pays him no mind.


	5. hate (two)

“I hate you,” Kumatuya says loudly, his usually cheerful voice transformed by anger. “Why would you ever say such horrible things?”

“Sardian deserved it, and you know it,” Ykoriana replies, equally incensed, undaunted by his reaction. “Why are you blaming _me_ if when all I did was put him in his place?”

***

“We too have grown to hate you,” Kumatuya whispers cruelly. “The horror of what you have done… We thought to have taken your eyes, not your heart.”

“You will believe what you wish to believe,” Ykoriana answers, trying to appear unaffected by his accusation. “Has your suffering not always caused you to lash out at me?”


	6. cradle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter (which I count among the saddest pieces of SDC fic I've ever written despite the length) is heavily influenced by fanon related to Kumatuya and Ykoriana's marriage. More specifically, the idea that they would have reconciled around the time of Flama's conception and had a mostly stable relationship for the years of her life, with her death driving them apart for good.

Ykoriana feels as if her heart is about to burst from joy, as she holds her infant daughter tightly, never wanting to let go. Delirious with happiness, she starts laughing, a high, triumphant sound that echoes inside her head. This is how Kumatuya finds her as he walks into the room.

Weeping, laughing as well, he embraces her and the child in her arms, whispering sweet words, promising he will always protect them.

It is the loveliest, most radiant day of her entire life, the warm memory of it remaining with her for the rest of her days.

***

Ykoriana’s heart is tearing in two, the overwhelming pain far too much to bear, rocking back and forth as she holds on to her daughter, unable to let go. Driven mad by grief, she starts screaming, a dreadful, haunting wail that resonates in her own ears. Kumatuya never sees her like this; he arrives far too late.

Weeping, raging, cursing, he stands far away from her, whispering unforgivable accusations, threatening he will see her punished for what she has done.

It is the darkest, most miserable day of her entire life, the horror of its memory plaguing her nightmares to the end of her days.


	7. forgive

“I forgive you,” Ykoriana softly tells her brother, the way his face lights up in a radiant smile warming her heart. “I’m sorry I talked to you like that. I was so angry… you know I loved that doll, Grandmother gave it to me when I was practically a baby. But I _know _you didn’t mean it.”

He runs to her, pulls her into a hug. “Still, I feel terribly guilty,” he whispers in her ear, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

***

“I forgive you,” Ykoriana wearily tells her husband, the tighter grip of his fingers in hers enough to tell her how moved he is by her declaration. “You have wounded me greatly over the years. I have done the same to you. It is far too late to regret the lives we led, but… I wanted there to be peace between us one last time.”

His hand, shaking ever so slightly, caresses hers. “I wish I could have been worthy of your forgiveness,” he whispers mournfully, “all I hope is that you can find happiness in your future.”


	8. rings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more pieces of fanon featured in this chapter:  
First of all, there's the idea that Chosen wedding ceremonies (which we know nothing about from canon) would involve the exchanging of rings.  
Then there are the Empress rings mentioned in the second part, which I imagine as two iron rings with motifs echoing the domains of the Twin Gods (and described in the chapter itself), one worn on each hand. One hundred percent unsupported by canon, of course, but it has become somewhat of a staple in my fics.

“You are still too young for your own rings, I’ll let you have mine for now,” Kumatuya tells Ykoriana playfully, carefully removing his own Great-Rings, sliding them onto her fingers. They are too large for her, and she has to close her fists so that they remain in place, but it is a momentous occasion all the same.

She may not be of age yet, but she knows fully well in which circumstances one would trade rings with another. Her cheeks are flushed, her heartbeat so loud that she worries Kumatuya might hear it, as she wonders if he is thinking much the same.

***

“Our blood runs in your veins, from this day hence,” Kumatuya tells her solemnly, placing the newly-made iron rings on her fingers. The shapes of constellations are engraved on the one on her left hand, entwined flowers and vines on the other. They fit perfectly, and she feels faint with elation; this moment has come to pass precisely as she had always dreamed it.

She glances down at the rings, nearly identical to those she had seen her mother wear since she could remember, and yet so different – _her own_. As she raises her head to face Kumatuya (_her husband_) again, there is no doubt in her mind he is equally overcome with joy.


	9. child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An exploration of the very distinct reactions Ykoriana and Kumatuya would have had to the upcoming birth of Molochite and Osidian versus that of Flama. I see these as being nearly complete opposites, with the twins being conceived during one of the lowest points of their relationship and Flama at their reconciliation (see notes for chapter 6).

"This is joyous news," Kumatuya says quietly, and for the first time in over half a year, Ykoriana can hear genuine happiness in his voice. The fact surprises her, but no more; after what has passed between them, she could never truly rejoice in this occasion.

Stiffly, she nods. Strange, to consider that once she had dreamed of their future children so often, had yearned for this moment for months and years on end, thinking of the love and memories they would share.

Reality is very different. Any love remaining is for their child alone, though she has considered that perhaps it would be for the best to foster an illusion of civility between them after the birth. She would not want her son or daughter to grow up well-aware of the hatred in their parents' hearts, after all.

Moved by some strange impulse – there has been nothing between them besides contempt and emptiness since their wedding night – he reaches for her hand in a timid caress, but she pushes him away.

  


***

  


"We couldn’t be happier," Kumatuya blurts out, weeping, and Ykoriana laughs as she touches his face, gently wiping his tears. He has been so easily overcome by emotion as of late, his reaction a mirror to hers.

"I know," she replies softly. Strange, to consider that she thought this dream dead once, any hope of even attempting to move past their hatred forever smothered by the birth of the twins and its aftermath.

Reality comes nearly as a shock in comparison. The embers of a love thought gone have reawakened in her heart. For the first time in years, giddy with excitement, she dares to nurture hopes for their future, for the life they may yet come to know with this child, a family at last.

Moved by a sudden surge of affection – oh, how quickly this has become such a familiar part of their lives – she moves to embrace him, and they hold on to each other in silence, taking simple comfort in one another’s warm proximity.


	10. kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the situation described in the first part would be something quite unusual: I imagine that a few of Ykoriana's relatives/friends would have helped ensure Kumatuya and Ykoriana could be free of the vigilance of the Wise for a very short period of time.  
The separation mentioned in the first paragraph refers to Kumatuya and Sardian being unable to meet for several months following the death of Sardian's father. To make a long story short, Sardian would be undergoing training during his first months as Ruling Lord (from the part of his father's best friend, who took upon himself to guide him), and this would include a self-imposed temporary separation from Kumatuya.

On the day of her nineteenth birthday, Kumatuya kisses her for the very first time. Ykoriana does not care that their recent closeness is borne from forced separation from his lover. The flash of regret she sees in his eyes as he moves away is of no concern.

It is a blissfully happy moment all the same, his lips so warm, his skin so soft. She felt the love in his touch, knew the feeling in his expression for what it was before his doubts took over.

_One day, you will no longer have to feel ashamed for giving in to your true feelings_, she vows.

***

On the day of Kumatuya’s passing, Ykoriana kisses him for the final time. She tries to pay no mind to the faint sound of his sobs, even as her heart is breaking. She tries not to think of how fragile he seems, how quickly he’s fading.

All resentment, all hatred is finally gone from their hearts. Nothing remains but the truth. The fondness in his voice, the tenderness in his touch, both gone for so long, are unmistakable.

_In the end, we found each other again, _she reflects, the thought so bittersweet.


	11. vows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes the headcanon that the words Carnelian and Osidian speak to each other in the chapter "Just One More Day" are traditional vows of love among Chosen, and also spoken by couples during their wedding ceremonies (as is implied in the second part).
> 
> Roses, of course, are canonically strongly associated with Ykoriana; the same is true for camellias and Kumatuya in fanon.
> 
> The first part of this chapter is set during Kumatuya and Ykoriana's childhood, the second at the time of their reconciliation (see notes for chapters 6 and 9).

Ykoriana smiles at the sight of Kumatuya watching the passing clouds, a crown of camellias on his head to match the one of roses on hers. She feels so peaceful, so _happy_, and a mad impulse takes her over, her heart beating very fast, as she takes hold of his hand.

He looks at her in surprise, as she removes one of her rings and places it on his finger. "Kumatuya," she tells him sweetly, "your bones are my bones—"

His eyes widen in alarm, and he hastily reaches for her hand, saying "Don’t."

Ykoriana is heartbroken. _"Why?_" she whispers. _Could it be that he doesn’t—_

"I meant no harm," he reassures her very quickly. "It’s just that… well, it’s far too early for this."

"It’s just pretend," Ykoriana remarks desperately. "As it was for you when you called me 'wife' the other day. No more."

Kumatuya kisses her hand. "I know. But those vows are far too special, far too _meaningful_, to be taken lightly. We will speak them to each other only once, and that is still many years away. Do you understand?"

She nods, and he beams at her. "So far away still, but it when that moment does come, it’ll be _perfect_, you’ll see."

***

Ykoriana rests her head on Kumatuya’s chest, as his fingers run through her hair, both of them in perfect, peaceful silence. For the first time in years, she feels overcome by a surge of almost-painful joy. _I will never be parted from you again._

"Ykoriana," Kumatuya whispers tenderly, breaking the momentous silence, his hand reaching for hers, "your bones are Our bones."

Ykoriana’s heart starts beating rapidly. _We will speak them to each other only once_, the boy he had been had told her. And that moment had come to pass three and a half years before.

"Your skin my skin," she replies, her voice choked with emotion.

"Our heart is yours." His own voice is trembling slightly. _He always said these vows were not to be taken lightly. For him to change his mind like this—_

"My blood runs in your veins," Ykoriana finishes, and her lips find his.

Kumatuya’s face is wet with tears as they come apart, and he holds on to her tightly, as if never wanting to let go. "This time—"

"This time, we truly meant them." She caresses his cheek, feeling as if her heart is about to burst, such is her love for him.

_We are wed a second time, and we’ll know happiness at last._


	12. choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses on Ykoriana's contrasting views of her two brothers — and the terrible choice she ultimately had to make.  
Tyatxungo is a character we learn nothing about in terms of personality in canon, so it is the fanon version of him that is featured. I see him as being a gentle (not without some parallels to Carnelian), shy, bookish sort, almost the complete opposite of cheerful, lively, extroverted Kumatuya. As shown in the first part of the chapter, I imagine Ykoriana and Tyatxungo's mother Nayakarade would have done everything in her power to encourage closeness between her children (while trying to poison Ykoriana's love for Kumatuya, much as Ykoriana herself would later think of doing for her own children), but would have never achieved any degree of success. I picture Ykoriana as rebelling against her mother's attempts to get her to know Tyatxungo better (tied as many of these were to disapproval of her bond with Kumatuya), and eventually coming to resent Tyatxungo himself for the fact, no matter how unfair that view.  
Sadly, this situation would have never evolved positively, with older Ykoriana regarding Tyatxungo neutrally at best. She would hate herself and live with the guilt for many years after, but even before Azurea died and everything relating to Sardian's exile came to pass, she had resigned herself to the choice she would make. Kumatuya would always come before Tyatxungo to her.

"Ykoriana, you _will_ stay here with your brother," her mother tells her, using what Ykoriana has always thought of as her 'Empress voice', high and cold, expecting to be obeyed. She does not fear her mother’s wrath, however, and has little patience for her attempts to get her to grow closer to Tyatxungo. _He is just a baby, one who cries far too much, at that_, she thinks dismissively. _Let him cling to Mother’s skirts and pester _her_, I’ll spend the day with Kumatuya as I had wished._

***

"Ykoriana, you _cannot_ be thinking of betraying your own blood," her mother tells her, her tone icy, her words sharp, yet all tinged by an undercurrent of terror. Ykoriana knows that her decision will be the end of her mother’s lifelong dreams, will destroy their relationship beyond any hope of reconciliation. _Tyatxungo has always been too kind, too gentle_, she thinks desperately. _I will never forgive myself for what I’m condemning him to, but the only future for me is at Kumatuya’s side._


	13. gift

Kumatuya’s first gift to her was a flower from the Yden; such was the story Ykoriana’s aunt had told her numerous times, ever since she was little more than a babe in arms. _He was _so_ happy, smiling so much at you, and he held the flower so close to your face that I had to pull him away. He still insisted you had loved it._

She has wondered what flower it might have been many times. Nurpayahras could never quite remember, Tiye had not been there at the time and she could, of course, never raise the subject with her mother. Sometimes she pictures it as a rose, her favourite, other times as a camellia, his own, less often as something else.

The warmth and love associated with the memory never change. It remains cherished for the rest of her life, the taint that marred other recollections never quite reaching that far. On rare, blessed, occasions, she dreams of it, and awakens with a lighter heart.

***

Kumatuya’s final gift to her was a necklace, ruby and garnet roses among an intricate net of golden chains. He had described it in extensive, loving, detail, telling her how the idea had been simmering in his mind for so long, until he had finally had it made in time for their daughter’s ninth birthday.

She was delighted, and had worn it for Flama’s birthday masque, much as he had hoped. It had been one of the few times they had worn the same colours over the course of their marriage, red jewels complimenting the black and green of their House. Their daughter had been left in awe of her parents, dancing together like a pair of lovestruck youths.

That memory was forever tainted not even half a year later, when their joy turned to ash. His gift, now a reminder of their loss, was locked away where she could hope to forget it. On rare, dreaded occasions, she dreams of it, and awakens wishing she could still weep.


End file.
